Toothaches

Accidentally, purposefully, I’m throwing myself at him. I know what I’m doing. I’m cool–I dig in the knife. It’s okay if he rejects me. I know we’re not getting back together.

I asked to come over last Thursday. Two months, and I’ve slept at his twice. Last time, the first time, he said I was welcome anytime. I wanted to have sex. I took him up on it. I didn’t plan on staying the night. My allergies have been acting up since. My jaw cracks daily from not wearing my retainers. I’m a day or two off on my antibiotics.

I explained to a friend afterward that I didn’t know how I felt, and I don’t. I also explained that it’s hard because even though I don’t want the rest of my life to be decided now, even though I don’t care about where we are if it’s easy, it doesn’t mean I don’t want more. It doesn’t mean I didn’t think about it.

He didn’t know where it was going. He couldn’t even think of anything to not like about me (at New Year’s).

Tonight, after dinner (where I tried to touch my right leg against his left) and after parting, I asked if he wanted to come back to mine.

I went over to his for a lot of reasons. Because he never came to mine in our last month together. Because he hasn’t tried to since. Because I moved–and it feels significant that he’s never seen my new apartment, even though he’s asked about it. Because he felt like I set a boundary, and I knew he would never ask me over because of it. Because I was leaving work and he was already home.

I had already asked if he was just going home. Yes. He got into his car. I knocked on the passenger window. He said something about having to do something. The car behind him honked. He tried to say sorry or excuse his response, but I stepped away and waved him on. He asked me to text him when I got home. I thought about ignoring him, but I didn’t. It’s the decent thing to do.

We texted. I received a voicemail. He broke the boundary that I set and that I hate and I didn’t even receive the call because my new apartment has weird cell service. I called him back. We spoke for seven minutes. He’s home making a list of actors and directors he admires.

Parking is hard at my apartment anyway. The worst thing he could have done is rejected me, and he did. And he has.

In one of our phone calls, I told him I feel so rejected by him all the time. He asked if I meant when we were together or after we broke up. I told him both. He asked how. I didn’t give him the answers. Most of it’s in my head.

He maintains the boundary and I break it. He’s the one who decided to reject me to begin with.

I know that just because I want something, doesn’t mean I should expect it. Even if I wasn’t asking him to stay the night. I wasn’t asking him to kiss my face and tell me “You’re so beautiful.” like an act of making up for lost time. I just wanted to sleep with him again.

But I told him I don’t want to be friends. I told him too many times. I stick the knife in us both.

I called him crying. I suggested we leave a party together, crying. I called him crying. I called him crying. I asked to come over intending to have sex then leave but instead, I also cried and I also stayed the night. I invited him back into my world, and the motion failed. I should be more fair to myself.